When people wake up at the Sleep Center, they often talk to the attendants about what they dreamed, even though normally the attendants don't care what they dreamed. No one is there to get their dreams tested. From what I understand, that is what the Last Judgment is for. I still like to listen to people's dreams, though.
Last night I sat on my stool in the closet and listened through the wall as a woman told her dream to the attendant named Mark who was unplugging the woman. She said that she walked down a busy street and kept finding these beautiful glowing letters of the alphabet. Every time she picked one up (and apparently this was often) she felt like she learned something valuable. But then she'd take the letter and throw it in the air where turkey vultures would eat them.
(My ears naturally perked up when I heard about turkey vultures. It took everything in me not to open the door to the closet and tell her that unless the glowing of the letters was due to putrefaction a turkey vulture wouldn't eat them, ignoring the fact that turkey vultures do not live in urban areas, nor do they eat things people hurl into the air. Were these letters even organic material that a bird could ingest????? You know, there's a reason people don't put pen caps and nickels in bird feeders.)
I'm thinking about carving a hole into the closet because I was curious as to how the attendant was regarding this woman's dream. The woman went on and on: then I took the letter F, and I felt like the world would be better if we just loved each other, then I threw it in the air and a turkey vulture ate it. Then I took the letter A and understood that sharing is better than having, then I threw it in the air and a turkey vulture ate it. Then I took the letter C, and I felt like nature was just wonderful, and we should take care of it, then I threw it in the air and a turkey vulture ate it. Then I took the letter E, and I felt like we need to be thankful for what we have, then I threw it in the air and a turkey vulture ate it.
I couldn't stop wanting her to shut up, and I would have liked to have known what the attendant thought of her. The attendant, Mark, is not my friend, though. Even though I didn't like the woman who had the dream, I nevertheless sketched her dream when I got home, which is something I enjoy doing. If I died and someone went through my journal, they would probably think I loved drawing "dream-like" things. Which I do. So I just sketched the turkey vulture with the glow-letter B hanging from its beak. No way was I putting that woman in the picture. Turkey vultures could crap a more coherent story.
